Praeteritus
by Aloysius Vitale
Summary: With the galaxy in peril, the Jedi have little place else to turn. Experimentation and trial testing has led to the Jedi's new hope. Wielding his newly formed powers and a shield, Kenobi is prepared to defend the Jedi to his dying breath though it turns out to be more difficult than his vows had originally set it out to be. [Captain America AU]


When he was young, Obi-Wan would have never expected his life to be as it had turned out to be. He expected many things — as one often does as a young child — but they were more along the lines of how the typical Jedi youngling imagined. Being taken as a Jedi's padawan, becoming a Jedi master, possibly joining the Council… He would never have come to the conclusion that he would be deemed the protector of those who sought to protect the galaxy themselves. The guardian of the universe's peacekeepers. Such a title, such **STRENGTH** , should never have been allowed to manifest itself. He found himself doubting his actions, but never would he speak those doubt aloud. They were problems he held close and worked to settled in himself before speaking them to worry others. At first, he was hesitant that he would possibly be the right man for the job. Yet, here he was. The Council had ways of keeping secrets even from themselves. They were necessary for the overall future of their Order, but he still found himself wondering what else he was forbidden from knowing. Testing midichlorians, bending them to one's control… such a thing sounded bizarre and unheard of — almost immoral at first. Now he was now a product of their work.

There was pain, but that pain had been secondary to how he felt afterwards. The readjustment period felt far worse. He used to be able to sense his surroundings — feel them with the Force — but now, he could feel… everything. It was overwhelming and nauseating beyond belief. He'd spent the first three days in complete silence yet everything for what seemed like parsecs felt amplified. Incapacitated and empowered. Strange contradictions. He'd learn to adjust. He'd prevail through it all and come out above it. He'd rise above those he swore himself against. He'd be the man the people he swore to protect needed him to be. He'd be strong. Much of his time was spent in meditation to tune his strength and hardness his control once more. Even if he had been stronger than he'd ever been before, he needed to wield that power without doubt.

There was a thin line he walked. He had tread it lightly. Emotions were not to control his actions, but guide him. These are the simple lessons he'd long ago learned, but was now beginning to internalize entirely. Many Jedi lay dead. Their blood stained the ground they once protected. Their lives had moved on and left the rest of them to the whim of history. The Jedi were not willing to go so quietly. The attack on Grand Master Yoda was not something that went under the radar, as much as they would have preferred. To nearly have been struck down in the very place they had all believed to be secure. The Jedi Temple was no longer the haven it praised itself to be. With high respect for their indisposed Master, the Jedi had been in disarray though one would never have guessed it upon first glance.

He was a product of Master Windu's upbringing now — the staunch Jedi traditionalist. Obi-Wan would be the first to deny that even he had something like this up his sleeves. Of them all, he was perhaps the most capable to make a decision on the matter. Desperate times made the Jedi desperate defenders. They created a new defender. A midichlorian nightmare in the eyes of some. Their own personal weapon though to phrase it as such was nothing short of offensive. The war was still raging on. The separatists had taken the life of his brothers and sisters — those he'd grown the most fond of in his life. They'd been struck down before their time by a mysterious force they knew not. They'd taken his previous padawan away from him. Of all the bodies they'd recovered, Anakin's was not among them. Obi-Wan would never dare admit the number of times he would lay awake, wondering what had become of him. The few words they exchanged before his last mission had been short as if they were going to see each other a few days later. Nothing was there to warn them that it might be their last encounter.

Those days after they'd lost all contact with Skywalker were those days he found himself in the garden more than anywhere else. A younger Anakin was once amazed by places like this. Areas of so much color with life in plenty. Some were namely medicinal, but many were there for their beauty. He took a fondness to the purple and blue blossoms that bloomed near the edges of the gardens where he could sit before them and relax. There he could clear his head and try to assess his own thoughts into something more productive, but even then he could sometimes be trapped in his own head.

Memories could fade, but the thought of the young boy they long ago rescued from Tatooine… the Chosen One they had pulled from slavery. He would not be forgotten. He knew the name Skywalker must be remembered. His legacy would continue on. He was not fighting out of vengeance. He was fighting in their honor. Their memories and legacies would thrive through his actions and their names would be honored forever at the end of this long journey. He was ready to carry them on his shoulders — the heavy weight of living borne down upon him by the dead. The very cusp of irony.

He'd gone long without visiting those who knew Anakin outside the Jedi Order. Padmé's face was one he hadn't seen in months and he was not eager to face her. How craven of him. He wasn't much for turning away from confrontation, but she was one who he feared most of all in times of duress. Four of them had begun this long journey and only two of them remained. The years were tough on them all. Was he lucky for surviving? The dead were much more fortunate in certain regards. Sometimes he wondered what state the galaxy would be if he and Qui-Gon had traded places. Those he sought solace in tried time and time again to quell those thoughts he had. None had succeeded yet.

His eyes were trained on the way the light glinted off the surface of his shield… a weapon seldom utilized by the Jedi. The Order's symbol was borne on the front, a brazen spectacle for all the see the moment he appeared. Conspicuous was an understatement in his own opinion. The training to wield such a thing was strange, but he'd managed well. He was learning quickly, almost on a level that he thought unfathomable. His neural processes accelerated far quicker than they had previously… and the rest of the universe seemed to fall behind him. Many more abilities arose by that knowledge's side — some he hadn't even thought possible. The library became one of his dearest friends, but it was a fleeting romance. It was just a kiss, a mere **TASTE** of what he now knew he could withhold. His feelings about it were questionable. There was great responsibility that came with power like this.

A responsibility he was not going to spoil.

He had a job — to find this Jedi assassin and bring them to justice. This is what he'd been told from the beginning. This is the reason for his rebirth. He was going to do just that. Their Order was not going to fade away, at least not quietly. This was not for vengeance. This was for their memories. He was not a product of his anger. He would not indulge the severity his emotions. He would not block them out. Sitting in the garden, he brushed his thumb across his nose and leaned forward to cup his chin in his hand. The moment he heard the sound of an astromech rolling up to him, his eyes quickly glanced to the side, almost hoping to see the familiar blue and white colors. That ostentatious little droid with an attitude — Artoo. He was not that lucky, however. He smiled regardless, "Good afternoon, Arfour."

The little beeps and whirls that left the droid made him raise an eyebrow, "So it is. I suppose I knew this time would come." He chuckled a bit as he looked to the bubbling water in front of him. Small fish swam in circles before him. Obi-Wan tilted his head, feeling every little flick and twitch of their fins as they danced around without a care. There were a few more beeps, "No, no one has told me a thing. I have been sitting here waiting for word of something." He reached out, patting the top of the droid once or twice as he stood up and grabbed the shield that had been resting against his leg. His lightsaber swung on his belt as he rose, hitting his leg as he turned to look around.

The Council feared letting him leave without someone at his side. He could not place too much blame on them. He was as close of a prototype as they had and the only chance they had right now. Their only hope for something better currently. Above all else, he was expecting more tests, something else to prove he was ready for the challenges ahead. He was ready for whatever they had planned. "Let's see what they have for me." He sighed, walking out of the garden to head up to the bridge. Arfour whistled and beeped as she turned around and followed close at his heels.


End file.
